Shadows of the Moon
by V. Highwind
Summary: First part of a series. Vincent Valentine, a paranormal investigator, is called to the Airship of a wealthy client. Eventual Shonen-ai. Oh, and any problems with the formatting in this isn't my fault. Blame ff.n


Shadows of the Moon A love story by V. Highwind  
  
Disclaimer: This story will eventually contain some shonen-ai, or at the most a bit of yaoi. Shonen-ai and yaoi, for those who don't know but wish to, usually involves two males engaging in 'full contact sports'. However, this won't happen for a long time, with the rate that I write. If this isn't your cup of tea, don't complain, or better yet, just don't read on. However, if you'd like to tastefully critique my piece, I'd be thankful for your opinions and views. If you have any suggestions or questions, put them in your review. Also, I'd like to mention that I don't own the Final Fantasy VII characters portrayed in this work. I simply have dictated how they act and react in defined situations. I'd like to extend my warmest thanks to everyone who was involved in the creation and publication of that game, in hopes that no legal action will be taken. Thank you very much.  
  
***  
  
Two men, silhouetted by a full silver moon, stood in a clearing that rested on the top of a fairly high cliff. The cliff was dotted with a few trees, many which were dead and decomposing, but a few with withered leaves clung desperately to life. Creeping vines of poison ivy wove their way up and around the large trunk of an ancient Oak, whose bark was peeling and whose roots rose from the ground like great gnarled arches. In the far distance, barely visible on the horizon, yellow lights burned brightly, making the pure luminescence of the stars seem weak in comparison. An unkempt dirt road winded it's way up the cliff, often unnoticed and very rarely used. A white limousine waited conspicuously in the background, where the driver, clad in a white uniform soiled slightly by dust, waited by the passenger door for his fare. The fare, one Rufus ShinRa, rubbed his gloved hands together, trying to stay warm. His breath could be seen in the chill air as clouds of steam against the late autumn night. He spoke, as it seemed that his companion wouldn't, breaking the eerie silence that seemed to have descended upon them like a shroud. "Now, Mr..." he let the title trail off, questioning his associate. "Valentine. Vincent Valentine." Replied the other man, who was noticeably less bothered by the extreme temperatures than his client. He was a tall man, with long black hair partially held back by a red bandana. He wore only one glove, and that arm was hidden beneath his long, tattered trenchcoat. He seemed much more at peace here than the other man, who's white coat and silk scarf clashed with everything around him. This had not been the first time that Vincent had walked through thick forests at midnight, or steep cliffs in darkness, and it showed. From his rigid posture to his emotionless face, Vincent radiated confidence, experience, and wisdom unnatural for his age. "Ah, yes. Mr. Valentine, before I consummate this deal, I must inquire how you hope to fix my little...problem." He spoke the last word hesitantly, and suddenly appeared very nervous. He glanced behind him, as if expecting someone, but then straightened and regained his regal posture as he remembered his company. He spoke again, his tone caustic. "Keep in mind, of course, that I don't believe in any of this nonsense, and you are here only as a last resort." "Let me attempt to explain this." Spoke Vincent with a gentle tone and a weary resignation. He thought for a moment, and his lips curled in what could have been a smile, as he phrased his thoughts. "Imagine a hot air balloon." Vincent said. "Pardon?" Rufus looked extremely puzzled. Vincent noticed the other man's confusing, but continued. "Humor me. Picture a hot air balloon tethered to the ground. Can you see it?" "Yes." The wealthy socialite was irritated at being treated like a child, but was curious as to where this Mr. Valentine was going with the analogy. "Good. The ties bind the balloon to the ground, correct?" At Rufus' nod, he continued. "I sever those ties." He said simply, with the curtness of a man who wasted no words. "I see." said Rufus in a tone that implied that he had no idea what Vincent actually meant, but hated looking like a fool. "And precisely why are you the only one who can cut these ties?" Rufus asked with contempt. Vincent almost sighed in resignation, but instead held his mask of professionalism. It was a question asked of him as often as his name, and grew just as tiresome with every client. "It is a long and complicated story which I will not bother you with. Also, Mr. ShinRa, I am not the only one who can complete this type of task, but I am the only one who can do this in the time specified." Rufus shrugged at this explanation. "Fair enough." He glanced at his golden wristwatch. "I must depart now," he said to fill the reappearing silence. From his silk-lined Armani coat, Rufus ShinRa drew a large stack of bills. "The agreed fee," he explained, "half now, half when, or if," he added with a sneer, "the job is completed." He handed the money to Vincent, and without further ado, was escorted into his limousine and drove off in a cloud of dust. Vincent stared for a moment, then turned, shaking his head. "Why doesn't anyone understand?" he asked the night. He sighed, then started towards his work site for the next 3 weeks. The Airship Highwind, recently purchased by his client, attacked and felled in the Great War, and said to be haunted by a vengeful spirit. Vincent's new purpose was the liberation of that soul. It stood like a massive monolith on a nearby cliff, remarkably in tact considering that it had crashed, and showed more age than damage. Ivy had covered a large portion of one of the wings, and few of the windows remained unbroken, but the dirigible part of it had, miraculously stayed inflated. Perhaps this assignment wouldn't be so bad, he thought in a brief fit of optimism. Perhaps he would get this job done quickly, and he could return home to a nice, warm fire. It may have been the sudden chill, or the shrill whistle of the wind, but Vincent had the sudden revelation that this was not going to be a simple exorcism. Something told him that this would not be simple at all. Pulling his red trenchcoat closer around him, Vincent Valentine started up the cliff where the Highwind rested, half-buried in the desolate soil that was all too common around the city of Midgar. *** Author's Notes: Well, I hope that I fixed that little formatting problem. Anyway, this is the first part to a series, and I only have the vaguest of ideas on where to go from here. Ideas are very welcome. Oh, and this little ficlet is dedicated to 'Nori'. You know who you are. Thank you very, very much for your help, your support, and your friendship. Domo Arigato. 


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